


A Hobbit Werewolf's Tale

by Aria_Breuer



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction Stories by Genre Collection, Gen, Horror, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:19:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Breuer/pseuds/Aria_Breuer
Summary: Frodo Baggins is a known werewolf throughout the Shire. On his last night, he is stuck with a decision: be a werewolf forever or find a cure, before the full moon shines brightly in the night sky?





	A Hobbit Werewolf's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimers:** I do not own _The Lord of the Rings_ and _The Silmarillion_. J.R.R. Tolkien does.
> 
> Here is another fanfic for the collection. Tragedy is a bit hard for me to do. Not sure if this is the first time I’ve done a fanfic for this genre. Naturally, there’s another genre to go along with it to make it’s interesting. Here’s hoping it turns out well. :)

Frodo read his letter one last time. The candlesticks burned brightly in the study. The blue-eyed hobbit’s heart sank. He had to find a way to escape this curse or be doomed to remain a monster forever. That was a tragedy he couldn’t afford to spare.

No. There had to be a cure. Anything.

The door flew open. There was his brown-haired gardener, Samwise Gamgee, carrying a silver stake. He looked positively concerned.

“Mr. Frodo, are you sure about this?” Sam asked, cautious. “You know the risks.”

“I can’t afford second chances.” Frodo said, taking the stake. “When the transformation comes, don’t hesitate. Kill me. I will not become a monster.”

“I can’t do it. I can’t kill my best friend.” Sam told him. “If it’s any consolation, please let me stay with you.”

“That’s not going to work. Surely something must be done.”

“There is a way. Don’t look at the full moon. Please. You must say a hobbit.”

“Ahhhh!” Frodo let out a growl. He needed to get out of here. Fast. “It’s too late! _Move!_ ” He pushed Sam out of the way, taking flight down Bag End’s hallway. He could feel the transformation starting.

He made it out the door, howling at the full moon.

His body mass changed, tearing at his clothes. His hands sprouted paws. His teeth spiked, arching inside his mouth, making him groan for minutes. He was no longer a hobbit. He was a beast. A monster. He needed to escape this place, while he still had the chance.

He fled, vanishing before Sam could search for him. He ran until there was no stopping it. At last, he made it to a stream and looked at his reflection. No! He was a werewolf. Oh, what was to become of him now? He howled in pain and agony. There was nothing else for him to do. He didn’t want this. Was there no way to ease his suffering? He would wander through the woods, find another way to cure himself. Yes. That’s what he would do.

He ran through the night. Howling, gnashing his teeth into whatever rabbit crossed his path. He groaned and moaned. How could he survive in this beastly form? How could he survive? Was there no way out?

“Frodo.” A voice called out to him. It was so clear and pure. “Frodo, do not be afraid.”

He turned around, finding a figure gazing at him.

“Frodo, let me help you.” The figure touched his paw. Frodo was pulled out of his wolfie form, transforming back into a hobbit. His clothes were white and whole, instead of tattered. He looked at his former self, watching his body go limp and collapse on the ground. He was dead. He looked back at the figure dressed in white. The face was too awesome to behold. He caught a glimpse of Sam finding his wolf body, tears streaming down his face. The figure called out to Frodo again, gesturing him to follow. “Come with me. Your home awaits you.”

“Who are you?” Frodo asked, curious.

“I am Eru Ilúvatar. Come Frodo. It is time.” Eru took his hand, leading him up towards the heavens. There they were in a massive white hall, amidst statues and large golden-hued beings. Frodo had never seen such awesome power.

“Is this your home?” Frodo asked, curious.

Eru smiled. “I believe you insist on moving on. I can help you with that.” He showed him the light. “You are ready.”

Frodo followed the light without question. The light became brighter. Yes, he was heading home….

….he awoke, feeling light-headed. The room was so bright. It was morning. Had he died? Was he still with Eru Ilúvatar? He turned his gaze to Sam and his wife Rosie, who was damping his forehead with a wet washcloth.

“What happened to me?” Frodo asked, staring at the couple. “Am I asleep? Is this a dream? Did I pass on into the next life? Where’s Eru Ilúvatar?”

“Mr. Frodo, you’ve been out for seven days.” Sam said, concerned. “We thought you died, but you stayed very much alive.”

“Yes, it was quite disturbing.” Rosie said, moving away from Frodo. “But your fever’s broke. I think you’ll do all right.”

“I thought I was asleep. I was a werewolf. It was so real.” Frodo said, questioning his surroundings.

“Yes, well, we wouldn’t want that.” Rosie said, leaving the room.

“Will you be all right?” Sam asked, standing up.

Frodo nodded. “Yes. I’ll be fine, Sam.”

“I’ll be in the next room if you need anythin’.” Sam said, heading towards the doorway.

“Sam.” Frodo called out to his friend. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Sam smiled. “You’re welcome, Mr. Frodo. You’re welcome.” He left the room, pleased.

Frodo relaxed on the damp pillow. He was all right. All was well. Now, he could get a much-deserved rest. Although, he wouldn’t sleep for the next several hours. He was too awake for that. Too awake and wondering when he might catch a glimpse of Eru Ilúvatar again. For now, he was home again. Home with his friends. Home safe and sound.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
